Lower Your Eyelids to Die with the Sun
by Lila2
Summary: No matter how hard Caroline tries to compartmentalize her feelings, she can't stop her heart from wanting more.


**Title:** "Lower Your Eyelids to Die with the Sun"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Caroline, Klaus, and a teeny bit of Tyler

**Spoiler:** "Dangerous Liaisons"

**Length:** one-shot

**Summary****: **No matter how hard Caroline tries to compartmentalize her feelings, she can't stop her heart from wanting more.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.

**Author's Note: **Yes, yes, need to finish "Be So Happy" but then the most recent episode of TVD happened and I couldn't not write. I think that's a double negative. Please forgive me. And enjoy this fic. Title courtesy of M83.

* * *

><p>She knows it's wrong, but there's a part of Caroline that can't turn away from a man giving chase.<p>

She might have ended it, but she remembers those long weeks she panted after Matt, the way she twisted herself into knots for Damon even before it was beyond her control.

She spent so many years wanting; it's hard to turn down being the one who's wanted.

Which is why she lets Klaus try and fail and try again, because she knows Tyler loves her but there's always that part of her that sighs inwardly when even the most vile of monsters tells her that he fancies her.

She likes being wanted. Likes knowing she can play the role of Elena in someone's story.

Which is also why she opens his present, intending to roll her eyes and maybe even curse softly. She expects many things, like more jewelry literally meant for royalty or a tiara that used to reside in the Tower of London. She anticipates anything and everything except a sheet of tightly wound canvas.

She knows better than to unwind the white ribbon; she opens it anyway.

Klaus' words repeat in her ears as she unfolds the paper, _"You're beautiful, you're strong, you're full of light…"_

For a man accustomed to lying, he's managed to mean every word that he's said.

It's all there, etched between the delicate lines of her face, the strength in her eyes and the fierceness in her heart, the humanity that provides the specter of a soul.

If she still had breath, this is the moment it would catch in her throat.

Tyler is an artist, but he's always used his words to tell her what's in her heart.

She believes him, she does, because he loves her and she knows it to be true, but it's different to see someone's feelings in such clear black and white.

Klaus hasn't drawn her the way the world sees her. He's drawn her the way she wants to see herself.

* * *

><p>More drawings follow.<p>

There's Caroline dancing at the Grille and Caroline cheerleading at a basketball game and Caroline in knee socks having a sleepover with Elena and Bonnie.

It's disturbing, she won't pretend that it's not, but Klaus also hasn't killed anyone for a while so she lets it slide.

She knows she should have informed the Salvatores the moment the first sketch arrived, but there's a part of her that's still breathless every time she unties a white ribbon and takes in how Klaus sees her.

_…beautiful, strong, full of light…_

She's still working on feeling those things about herself.

* * *

><p>It's a few weeks before he pushes it too far.<p>

She opens his latest drawing and sees red, literally, as the veins flare in her cheeks and she tamps down the urge to bite someone.

She's sleeping: hair spilling around her face, eyelashes fanning over her cheeks, a tiny smile curving her mouth.

Her dreams are the only things she has to herself. She's given him too much already.

The mansion is empty when she storms over, eyes still burning a bright, fierce red, and a part of her is disappointed when she finds Klaus alone. She'd hoped to embarrass him in front of an audience, make him feel betrayed the way she already does.

"Caroline," he breathes and she stops and rewinds, reminds herself why she's here. It's hard to remember that he's a sociopathic killer when he wears the same expression as a delighted five-year-old boy. "For what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

There's a part of her that wants to let it go, because he's actually grinning and it's all for her, but the sane part of her remembers why she's angry in the first place.

She holds up the drawing. "This has to stop."

His smile dims. "You've never complained before."

"You are not Edward Cullen! You don't get to watch me sleep. I've reached my limit for creepy vampire behavior."

"I've been invited in," he reminds her, less a crestfallen boy and more a wounded animal. She doesn't like the light she sees burning in his eyes.

"You were invited in because I was dying. And worse, I was dying because of you. Remember Tyler, the werewolf you sired? Remember when you ordered him to bite me and he did, even though he didn't want to?"

Klaus has the sense to lower his eyes.

She rages on, not caring about the heat in her cheeks as the veins under her eyes pulse to life. "I almost died because of you. People I know have died because of you."

"You've killed people too," he says quietly and it's her turn to feel ashamed.

"Yeah," she finally says. "I did, once. I was new at this and didn't know how to control what I am. But I understand now and it hasn't happened again. And you want to know why?" She continues, even when he doesn't respond. "Because I know right from wrong, because I understand that even if I'm dead, I don't get to take someone's life away just because I can. Don't ever try and make us the same."

His face tightens and she half expects him to throw her across the room or rip her heart out or set her on fire. She ignores that tiny part of herself that believes he would never hurt her.

That tiny part is right. "I think you should leave," he says, pushes her away like he did that night, throws her out when her words strike too close to home.

She shakes her head with disgust. "Stay out of my life," she tells him and slams the door behind her.

He doesn't follow her.

More than a tiny part of herself wishes that he did.

* * *

><p>The drawings stop.<p>

She's mostly relieved to sleep in peace, but there's a part of her that misses being beautiful and strong and full of light.

No matter how many times she looks in the mirror, she can never find that girl.

* * *

><p>A month goes by and there's no communication from Klaus.<p>

Stefan makes a nuisance of himself and Damon avoids Elena and all is quiet on the Originals front. "They've gone to ground," Damon grumbles one night. "They must be planning something big."

Sfefan grinds his hands together and Elena's eyes fill with tears. Caroline sighs. Being friends with supernaturals is such a buzzkill.

There's a package waiting for her when she gets home, black box and white bow, and something hard and tight lodges in her chest.

She pushes the feeling away, even though it's the best she's felt in forever.

It's not what she expects but might be what she needs.

There's a dvd in a slim case and a note in Klaus' writing: **When you talk, I listen.**

She slips the disk into her computer and a news clip from the NBC affiliate in Charlotte appears.

It's Steven's voice and then his face fills the screen. "Thanks to the generosity of an anonymous donor, I'm proud to announce the Bill Forbes Center for Tolerance." The camera zooms out and a brick building fills the shot. "Bill was a great man, but he spent his life struggling with who he was." Steven pauses and Caroline holds a hand to her mouth, tears filling her eyes. She should have picked up all those times Steven called; if she had, this wouldn't be so hard. "We hope this center will make it easier for all of us to love each other for exactly who we are."

Caroline has seen enough, lays back on her pillows and shakes as the tears roll down her cheeks. Her father is gone and a monster has preserved his memory. A monster who established a foundation built on acceptance.

A laugh escapes and then another, and then she's shaking as hard with giggles as she did with sobs. Can something still be ironic when it's intentional?

She brushes the tears away and turns the computer back on, reloads the clip, and watches from start to finish. Steven talks about how much her father will be missed and then other members of the LGBT community chime in about things like forgiveness and compassion.

The man who set it all in motion flits through her mind and for once no part of her is filled with disgust.

Her father isn't the only one struggling to love himself.

* * *

><p>She doesn't say thank you but does unload her savings and part of her inheritance and buys Klaus a horse.<p>

Even though its pedigree is only okay, he doesn't seem to care. That hard, tight feeling reappears in her chest when he smiles his thanks.

"Did you name him?" he asks, runs a hand over the horse's coarse gray hair.

"Sleipnir," Caroline says with a smirk and his laughter rings out. That hard, tightness grows stronger. "I thought it would be appropriate," she says. "After all, you are like the King of Vampires."

"I'm just a man," he says and looks into her eyes. His are bright and blue, and there's no mistaking the intensity burning there. She isn't ready for this.

She clears her throat and turns to the horse, "I was hoping he could replace the one you lost."

Klaus smiles like he knows something she doesn't – knows _her_ – in ways she doesn't, and most of her fills with fury. He hasn't earned having that kind of power over her. "My father is dead," he tells her, changes the subject so some of the anger eases. "And no one carries swords anymore."

"That's good," she says, acutely aware of the high-pitched tone of her voice. He's making her nervous. _Klaus_ is making her nervous. She remembers Matt throwing her scraps of attention, Damon buying her a present and all being forgiven. She won't be that girl again. "I have to go," she says and forces her features into a blank mask. Klaus is still a psychopath. Nothing will change that.

"Did I say something wrong?" Klaus asks, caring filling his face. She tells herself he's a vampire. Lies and games are second natures to him.

"Let's not make this any more than it is," Caroline says, makes her voice intentionally hard. "You did something nice for me, I did something nice for you. We're even."

She starts walking away before he can say something that makes that rapidly enlarging part of her want to stay.

She doesn't move fast enough. "I didn't do it for you," he calls after her. "I did it because it's the right thing to do."

She keeps walking despite the smile that breaks out across her face.

* * *

><p>Elena confronts her a few days later at school.<p>

"What's going on with you?" Elena's eyes are narrowed with suspicion and her arms are crossed. It's her tough girl stance and Caroline resists the urge to roll her eyes. She loves her friend, she really does, but who is Elena kidding? She could snap her neck in half a second.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asks and opens her locker.

"I found this," Elena says and holds up Klaus' very first drawing. "It fell out of your bag when we were studying for Calc last night." Caroline vaguely remembers carrying it around when she was shopping for horses, trying to find an exact match.

"It's an apology note." She rummages in her locker for her English notebook.

"Caroline, come on," Elena says. "I might only be a doppelganger, but even I can see through this. He likes you."

Caroline finds the notebook and shoves it into her bag. "I'm with Tyler."

"He's dangerous."

She slams the locker shut. "Elena, I can handle this, okay? It's just a little crush. And hey, it's keeping him on the straight and narrow. I say we go with it."

Elena's eyebrows do this thing that reminds Caroline way too much of Damon. "Caroline, I know you miss Tyler but Klaus? Really?"

Elena's words hit too close to home. Caroline does miss Tyler, the feel of his hands on her skin and the way he makes her laugh and how much he loves her. She misses all that, but she's not pathetic enough to fill that hole with someone else. So she lashes out, even if she knows she'll regret it. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"What?" Elena asks, her forehead knotting in confusion.

"Stefan, Damon, Elijah…" Caroline ticks each name off on a finger. "You're used to having them all in love with you, but then someone comes along and chooses me. You can't handle it." She knows she sounds insane, but it's better than admitting the alternative. She hasn't filled Tyler's absence with Klaus, but he's still managed to claim part of her for himself.

"Caroline, what the hell are you talking about?"

Caroline sighs and closes her eyes, feels tears prick at her lids. Immediately, she feels Elena's hand on hers and she resists the urge to flinch. She just said hurtful things to her friend; how is Elena doing the comforting?

"I'm sorry," Caroline says. "That was uncalled for and we both know it's not true." They actually know that only half of it is a lie, but neither wants to open the can of worms that's Elena's vampire four-way. "You're right. I do miss Tyler and Klaus has been nice to me. It was hard to say no."

Elena's fingers tighten and a genuine smiles breaks out across her face. The girl is ridiculous, but it's part of why Caroline loves her. She wishes she could forgive so easily. "If you want to talk, I'm here," Elena says. "I made it through when Stefan disappeared. I have lots of tips."

"Thanks, but I'm okay, really," Caroline replies. Her words are two-fold: she really doesn't want to hear about Stefan, but she also doesn't want to explain Klaus to Elena. She doesn't understand it yet herself.

Elena holds out the drawing and she takes it. "Be careful, please. I can't lose anyone else."

Caroline wraps her friend in a hug. "I'm not going anywhere."

She glances at the paper over Elena's shoulder, aware of the lie in her words. She's already lost a piece of herself.

* * *

><p>It's almost spring when Klaus shows up to guest-lecture her AP Euro class.<p>

Mr. Saltzman looks pissed, but she picks up Klaus' words, how he encourages Alaric not to make a scene, and her teacher steps in front of the class and tells them about the special speaker they're having today.

A collective sigh escapes from every girl in the room.

Caroline resists the urge to roll her eyes because Klaus' stay locked on hers the entire time.

* * *

><p>He catches up with her in the hallway after class and she gives up her lunch period to debrief with him.<p>

"That was quite a lecture," she says. "Who knew the Vikings were so peaceful. And dirty."

He laughs, leans his hips against a row of lockers. "We just wanted land," he says. "Farms and sheep. All that raiding is grossly exaggerated."

She laughs with him, but it quickly dies. There's only so much stalling she can handle before the situation is absurd. "Why are you here?" she asks and his face grows serious as well.

"You're going to live forever and yet you choose to spend your time here." He gestures around the hallway, the flyers for study hall and debate club, her own face grinning down from a prom queen poster. "I wanted to understand why."

"So you commandeered my history class?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I get bored. And you didn't answer my question."

"This is my life," she says quietly. "I know it's only the first of many, but that's what makes it special. I know what I am, but I'm still me. This mattered to me before and it matters to me now."

He looks very sad as he contemplates her words. "I've met so many people, been so many places, lived so many lives…I barely remember when things mattered to me."

"You were human once. Elena told me the story of your family. You had a life with them."

"I killed my both my parents," he reminds her. "I'm still putting that life into perspective."

"You're the one who gave me reasons to live," she says. "I can't believe you're giving up."

The melancholy leaves his face and that bright, burning fills his eyes. "Giving up? Hardly." He reaches out, runs his fingers down her cheek. "Don't you see? A new life is just beginning."

There's a part of her – too large a part of her – that wants to turn into his hand, press her mouth to his palm and ask him to take her away, let her be a part of this life he's carving out. But that's not the Caroline Forbes she's spent eighteen years creating, the Caroline who's Miss Mystic Falls and the sheriff's daughter and in love with Tyler.

She takes a step back and the wall goes up, his eyes flat and his expression neutral. The moment is over, but it isn't gone.

"Do I have your vote for prom queen?" she asks, tries to force some levity back into the conversation.

He doesn't take the bait. "You'll always be a queen in my eyes."

She remembers what he said the night of the ball, about the princess who claimed her bracelet first but whose beauty couldn't compare to hers, and she knows there's only truth in his words.

Somewhere along the way, she began seeing him exactly the way he sees her.

* * *

><p>Tyler comes back and finds the drawings.<p>

They're hidden under her mattress but it's shifted after her very enthusiastic welcome home, leaving them in clear view.

Most of them aren't signed, but Tyler figures out the artist anyway.

"This isn't okay, Caroline," he tells her and rolls away.

She sighs, draws the sheet to cover her breasts. "They're just drawings, Tyler. It's not like I could stop him."

He turns and she finds it hard to stay mad at him, not when he spent the last months torturing himself for her. Or when his chest is that muscled and she wants to trail her tongue down the grooves of his stomach. He sits down beside her, slinks a hand under the sheet to slide up her thigh. It's a mean tactic, but she's not really complaining. She has missed him.

"Why did you keep them?" he asks, his hand creeping higher. She's finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation.

"They're flattering," she says. "No one has ever drawn me before."

His fingers curl and she moans softly and falls back on the bed. "You know, I'm an artist," he says as he hovers over her. "If you want a portrait, I'm game."

"Stop talking," she says and wraps her legs around his waist.

She loses herself in Tyler, the touch and feel of him, the familiarity of his body sliding against hers.

She ignores the part of herself screaming to be heard: this might be what she wants, but that doesn't make it right.

* * *

><p>The boys fight within a week.<p>

Freed from his sire bond, Tyler isn't afraid to take on Klaus, but he forgets that even without his leash, a baby vampire is no match for an Original.

He comes home broken and bloody but she's the one who's fuming.

She's angry with Tyler for instigating, angry with Klaus for rising to the challenge, but most of all she's angry with herself.

She's not sure which one of them she wanted to win.

* * *

><p>Klaus is alone when she confronts him and if she didn't know how prone to scheming they are, she'd think his family are just a figment of her imagination.<p>

"Caroline," he drawls but doesn't get up. "Come to play the white knight?"

"You shouldn't have fought him."

"He hit me. I only defended myself."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Please. You're an Original. You know he didn't stand a chance."

Klaus finally rises, muscles rippling under the thin cotton of his shirt, and she's suddenly aware of him, not as a vampire, but as a man. He's handsome, all the Originals are, but she's not sure she really saw it until this moment.

"Why are you really here, Caroline?"

"I can't see you anymore," she says and the anger dissolves. She feels sad like she did when she ended things with Matt, said goodbye to something she wanted to keep. "It was one thing when Tyler was gone, but he's back. I'm with him."

"Spoken for," Klaus says. "Yes, I remember."

"You understand then."

He takes a step towards her and his shoulders seem wider, his jaw sharper. He looks down at her and his eyes are bright and burning and spearing right through her. She can't feel warm anymore but heat still spreads through her chest. "What does he have?" Klaus whispers, lays himself bare in ways he never has before.

"He's not a monster," she says, expects him to wince but his mouth only curves into a wicked grin.

"Caroline, we're all monsters."

"Not like you."

"I'm over a thousand years old. The man you knew is only one of many." He rests his hands on her hips, pulls her close so her breasts press against his chest. "My mother says forgiveness is a gift." He leans in, brushes his mouth over hers. "When you're ready, I'll be waiting."

She steps back and away, needs to put distance between him and the massive part of her that felt that kiss all the way to her toes. "You say that like it's a guarantee. It might never happen."

"Well, then. It's good that we have all the time in the world."

He smiles and something hard and tight explodes in her chest.

Every part of her looks forward to the chase.

* * *

><p>Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time.<p> 


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